


Maybe I Knew

by hannahindie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Reader Insert, Sam Winchester - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform, han writes the thing, sam x reader - Freeform, spn fanfic, supernatural fanfiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 04:38:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16967841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahindie/pseuds/hannahindie
Summary: Reader comes back to hotel to find Sam drinking alone. She finds out that a lot more has been weighing on his mind than what she and Dean saw.





	Maybe I Knew

The bar was crowded and you watched as Dean hustled pool in the corner, nursing your drink and inwardly smiling at the poor guys who were falling for his drunken charade. Nine out of ten times it worked like a charm, and it seemed like tonight was no different. You glanced at the glass in your hand, the watered down whiskey not as appealing as it had been when the bartender had first given it to you, and thought that maybe it was about time to head back.

The hunt you’d just finished had ended as well as could be expected. The demon had been exorcised, which was a plus, but you had lost the person it was possessing. Just before Sam finished sending its black-eyed ass back to the basement, it had turned on him, letting loose a barrage of taunts about how it had been Sam’s fault that Lucifer was out and how it was inevitable that they would all be topside soon. Sam hadn’t had much to say about it, he’d just narrowed his eyes and continued with the exorcism, but you could see the hurt etched on his face. When Dean had mentioned going out to celebrate, Sam had muttered that he was too tired and that the two of you should go hustle some pool to help with the cash flow. So you’d left, and it had crossed your mind that maybe you should have stayed behind. Sam didn’t like cheating people for money, and the longer you sat alone watching the eldest Winchester destroy the bozos in the bar at pool, the more you realized that maybe Sam wasn’t as okay as the two of you had thought when you left.

You slid a couple of bills across the worn wood of the bar and glanced over at Dean again. A girl had appeared on his arm and he looked over to catch your eye. He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows, nodded at the girl, then waved a wad of cash. You couldn’t help but chuckle and decided that it was definitely time to head back. You nodded towards the door and Dean flashed another toothy grin and a thumbs up. You pushed yourself away from the bar and headed towards the motel, pulling your hood up against the cold rain that had begun to fall.

As you approached the run-down building, you were surprised to see a dim light shining through the worn out curtains. You quietly slipped the key into the lock and pushed the door open in an effort to not wake up Sam, but stopped short when you saw him sitting in one of the chairs. He was sprawled lazily, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his arms slung over the wooden rails of the chair, and his head hung so far down that his chin almost touched his chest. A mostly empty bottle of whiskey was clutched loosely in one hand, and for a moment you thought he’d fallen asleep like that. You slowly closed the door behind you, but the click of the lock as it slid home caught his attention, and he looked up at you with bleary, bloodshot eyes.

“Y/N?”

“H-hey Sam,” you stuttered. He tilted his head and stared at you for a moment.

“Thought you were celebratin’ with Dean,” he slurred.

“If you could call it that. He won some money, but it looked like he might have also won himself a lady. I thought it was about time I headed back.”

Sam took a swig from the bottle and sloppily wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Figures.” His head dropped and you stood rooted to the spot. You’d never seen him like this; drunk, yes, but he’d always been a happy drunk, with rosy cheeks and quick laughter. Although, to be fair, he didn’t normally drink over ¾ of a bottle of Jim Beam either. He swung his head back up to look at you. “Why are you back already?”

You glanced at your watch. “It’s 2 a.m. I figured that’s a respectable time to come back.”

Sam grunted, “I suppose. No one tickle your fancy?”

You laughed, but cut it short when you saw the look on his face, “No…can’t say that they did. I..uumm..I was kind of wanting to see how you were doing.”

He tilted his head in confusion. “Why?”

“What do you mean, why? You didn’t want to come with us, and after what the demon said earlier to you…. I just thought…” you trailed off and wondered if you were going to regret bringing it up. His hand tightened around the whiskey bottle, his knuckles white.

“I’m fine.” He sat up straighter and took another swig out of the bottle.

“Sam, are you sure-”

“I said I’m fine, Y/N!” he bellowed as he slammed the bottle on the table. The impact was hard enough to shatter it, and what was left of the whiskey poured out across the table before dripping onto the carpet. You had taken a step back, somewhat startled by how violent the outburst had been, but immediately moved towards him when blood began dripping from the hand that was still clutching the broken neck of the bottle.

“Oh hey…. Sam…” You moved over and knelt in front of him. Gently reaching for his hand, you unfolded his fingers until the bottleneck was out of his grasp. A quick glance told you it was a deep cut that probably needed stitches, but when you moved to get the first aid kit, he gripped your arm roughly. You looked at him then, and the sudden pain you felt for him was like a fire in your chest. His head was down, his long chestnut hair covering his face, but you could see his shoulders were shuddering, and you could hear the hitch in his breath as he tried to cover up the sobs that were escaping him. You stayed by his side, gently rubbing your thumb across the back of his hand. Finally, he looked at you, his hazel eyes dark with grief. You ran your other thumb across his cheek to wipe away a tear, then brushed his hair out of his face. He flinched slightly at your touch, and when you looked into his eyes they were full of guilt.

“What’s wrong, Sam?” you asked quietly, resting your hand gently on his arm.

“Do you think I knew?” His voice came out hoarse and strained from holding back whatever had him so distraught.

“Knew what?” You were whispering, scared that he’d clam up like the Winchester boys were prone to.

“You think maybe I knew…I mean, deep down, that I had demon blood in me, and about the evil of it, and that I wasn’t pure?” The question caught you completely off guard and you worked hard to keep your face from betraying you. Sam was looking at you so desperately, his eyes brimming with tears.

“Oh, Sammy…why would you even think that? How were you supposed to know?” He looked down, but you gently crooked your finger under his chin and brought his eyes level to meet yours. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a shaky breath. When he opened them, it felt like they were burning into you. His brows knitted together as he tried to put into words what he was feeling. You wanted to pull him into you and kiss him right where his worry lines were.

“Most of the time…I can hide it. But…I’m so angry, Y/N. I’m mad at everything. I used to be mad at Dean and Dad, then Azazel, then Lilith, and now it’s Lucifer. I make excuses. I blamed Ruby or demon blood, but it’s not their fault. It’s me. It’s inside of me. I’m so mad all the time…and I don’t even know why.” He stopped for a moment and looked down at his hand, at the blood running down his arm. "I used to think it was because of mom, because I never got to know her. I don’t even remember her, and Dean…he doesn’t have much but it’s more than I had. Then I thought it was Jess. I loved her so much. So fucking much. I was going to ask her to marry me, you know?” You nodded. “But…the hits just kept coming. It was always someone else and I always blamed everyone but myself.” He looked up at the ceiling, and you could see his Adam’s apple working as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

“You can’t blame everything on yourself, Sam. It’s not your fault that happened to you.” You were at a loss for words, not really knowing what to say but wanting to make this point clear. “It’s not your fault,” you repeated more firmly.

Sam laughed darkly. “That’s just it! What if…what if it’s not just the demon blood? The things that I have done and the anger that I feel…what if deep down I knew what was wrong with me and just used it as an excuse? What if I’m just blaming it on that and really…it’s just me? Maybe I knew how impure I was and just took advantage of it. Maybe that’s why Azazel wanted me to start with…he knew I was already broken.“ He looked back at you, tears rolling down his face again. "Y/N…what if I was already a monster and the blood was just an added bonus?”

At first, you didn’t know what to say. Of course his fear was completely unfounded. You were more certain of that fact than anything else in your life. But how to convince him of that…

“Sam, listen to me. I know I’ve not been in this life as long as you, I haven’t been around you for all the things you’ve had to go through. But you saved my life. You saved some girl you didn’t even know, risked your life to do it, and then let her tag along with you. And I know hunting is the family business, but how many times have you tried to leave? You always come back. If you truly didn’t care, if you were such a monster that the demon blood was just an excuse, would you do that?” His eyes brightened slightly but he didn’t say anything. “I look at you and I see…I see this selfless man. You’d do anything for your brother, for Cas, for me. When I look at you, I don’t see demon blood, because that’s not what makes you…you. This does.” You placed your hand softly on his chest, right over his heart. He slowly reached up with his uninjured hand and placed it over yours.

“I don’t…how do you see that? After everything I’ve done, all the lies I told? The things with Ruby…” he shook his head, obviously angry with himself.

You sighed, “I won’t lie. Those things are…well, they’re difficult at best. But Sam, Ruby lied to you. She used what she knew about you, lied, and made you think that what you were doing was right. All of it was to help Dean, to help save the world. So no, you shouldn’t have lied. At the end of the day, though, it was you trying to save everyone.“ You shook your head, "We don’t give you enough credit, Sam. I’m not innocent in that. I don’t stand up for you like I should, and I’m sorry. But your entire life has been dictated by that yellow-eyed asshole. You didn’t have a choice, and still somehow you get blamed for it. Ruby took advantage of you. What she did to you…it was wrong.” Sam dropped his head again and you knew then that you were going to have to tell him the one thing you’d been trying to avoid. “Look at me, Sam, please.” You must have sounded desperate because he looked up without resistance. As soon as his eyes met yours, you leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips.

You lingered for a moment, hoping that he understood what you were having difficulty saying, and then slowly pulled back. His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to say something, but immediately closed it. “I love you, Sam,” you whispered, resting your forehead against his, “I love you because of who you are, what you fight to be every single day. You are selfless and kind, and gentle. There is not a day that goes by that I’m not in awe of how you’re able to do that, after everything you’ve been through. You may have made some mistakes, but we all have. That demon…he was wrong.”

He fell into you then, sliding off the chair to join you in the floor, and wrapped his large arms around your waist. You could feel him shaking as the tears came again and you held him tightly, rocking him. As you carded your hand through his thick hair, comforting him as best you could, you wondered if he’d even remember your sudden confession in the morning. A part of you hoped he wouldn’t because you were afraid that it might ruin everything. But the other part of you wanted him to remember, if for no other reason than for him to know he was worth loving.

You sat like that for a while, until his breathing evened out and the tears stopped. “Hey,” you said soothingly, “let’s get your hand cleaned up, huh?” Sam sat back and looked at you for a moment, his eyes a little unfocused, and nodded. You managed to get him off the floor and onto the bed. He started to slump over but you caught him. “C'mon, just a little longer, then you can sleep all you want, okay?” He watched you blearily through the hair hanging in his face as you gathered the first aid supplies and came back to the bed. “We’re all out of the good stuff. Looks like it’s fishing line for you tonight. Hold still, okay?”

You gently poured peroxide over the cut and watched as it bubbled over. You poured alcohol over the needle after you threaded it and carefully began stitching, listening for any discomfort from Sam. The whole time he sat quietly without flinching, and as you concentrated on wrapping his hand, his eyes never left your face. You taped it, and as soon as you finished you looked up to see him staring at you. "All done,” you said, gently returning his hand to his lap. Sam nodded once, then tucked your hair behind your ear.

“Thanks, Y/N.”

You smiled. “No problem.”

He stared at you a moment longer, then leaned forward and kissed you, a little stronger than when you’d kissed him but also just as soft. It only lasted a few seconds, and although he still looked unsure as he pulled away, it seemed as if he was placated at least for the rest of the evening. His eyes started to close and you caught him before he fell off the end of the bed.

“C'mon, big guy, let’s go to bed.” He slid his way up to the pillows and sunk in with a sigh. Before you could move over to the other bed, he held out an arm out to you, his eyes pleading. You didn’t hesitate once as you shimmied under the blankets and positioned yourself to where you were lying chest to chest with Sam. You knew that when Dean came back he’d question the broken bottle and the blood on the table, and he would most definitely question why the two of you were in the same bed. But when you looked at Sam, who had finally closed his eyes and seemed to be well on his way to sleep, you realized it didn’t matter. And when Sam threw his arm across your waist, drew you close, and whispered, “I love you, too,” you hoped that this wasn’t the last time.


End file.
